


I love you, literally

by moriagatteyo



Category: GOT7
Genre: 15& in minor roles, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Jooheon (monsta x) in a minor role, Lee Chanhyuk (AKMU) in a minor role, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 02:14:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6885106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriagatteyo/pseuds/moriagatteyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything's cool. Bambam attends college, acts silly with his friends and gets ignored by his crushes. Very normal. That's until he gets involved with the mysterious boy on the bus and the so far smooth ride becomes bumpy. Along the way, he realizes that 'normal' is a rather superficial term and that he himself is far from it</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Bambam loved Wednesdays. Not because he liked sitting among the unmotivated bunch of students in Mr. Lee’s everlasting morning classes in history. Not because he looked forward to the heap of homework his sadistic calculus professor would assign him, and in addition to that, expect him to do. Not because he liked getting up half an hour earlier than usual, and not because he fancied the dish being served for lunch that particular day; a small piece of dry tuna drowned in a pool of beans and accompanied by rice. 

No, when it came to the mass produced cafeteria dishes, every menu but Friday’s tasted strongly of the word ‘obligation’ dipped in a bitter sauce called ‘unsure future’ on his tongue. ‘Park Jiwon’ on the other hand, were words tasting of an expectation he’d never had to cafeteria food. Just a mention of the simple, three-syllabled name in any context, or none at all, caused the butterflies in his tummy to flutter their wings vigorously as a particular picture made its way to the surface of Bambam’s vivid imagination. 

Said picture had been mentally snapped a sunny chemistry class some weeks ago when he had walked past Jiwon to get to his assigned seat beside Yugyeom in the back of the classroom. The girl of his dreams, and at least sixty percent of his wakefulness, had been busy chatting with Jimin and Yerin, assumingly about Jimin’s new shoes, leaving her inattentive to Bambam’s borderline staring. He was given the luxury of some extra seconds of totally non-creepy admiring, and as his eyes landed on her for what still wasn’t more than a brief moment, they caught the historical flash that was to be forever burned into his memory. 

It wasn’t news to anyone that Park Jiwon’s smile was of rare commodity, but Jimin, blessed as she was, had just received a sincere smile from her friend, brighter than the sunlight pouring through the thin curtains behind them. On the right side of Jiwon’s face, which was the only side fully visible to Bambam, a dimple had appeared on her cheek and her eye had crinkled to the loveliest crescent. The sunrays had added golden edges and stripes to the locks of brown hair flowing down her shoulders and lightly covering her forehead and Bambam was instantly convinced that god was real.

To cut to the chase; the reason as to why Bambam loved Wednesdays was because of the joy his weekly double lesson of chemistry brought him. Chemistry was already his favorite subject, but with Jiwon sitting three seats in front of him on the row to his left, it multiplied the excitement of getting to wear a discolored lab coat while boiling some water in a casserole. 

~~~~~

“Good afternoon! Now, please find your seats!” The classroom, which had been buzzing with activity only seconds ago, turned quiet at the sound of Professor Kim’s high-pitched voice and the students obediently did as told. She placed the heavy-looking plastic bags she’d been carrying on the closest desk, content readable on her face as she managed to hoist them up. 

“Today we’re going to do something exciting, kids!” The tiny, ever-enthusiastic professor said while clasping her hands together. “Do you remember we talked about the bouncy ball experiment?”

A chorus of ‘yeah’s and ‘ahhh’s filled the room, Bambam joining in on the ‘ahhh’s and Yugyeom making up his own squad by looking like a question mark, aka his usual state in everything school related. 

“I’ve decided we’ll pair up in groups of two, and –I’m not done!” she raised her voice and gave the front row, who’d already started eagerly discussing groups, a stern look, “ You have to pair up with someone you haven’t been with before! I don’t want to see the usual lineup.” 

Judging by the displeased mumbling that followed, the students weren’t too fond of the teacher’s newfound creativity, but to Bambam this was a god-sent opportunity. Yugyeom’s elbowing and teasing nod in direction the front wasn’t necessary; he’d already set his mind on the girl who… was taken.

As they both stood up to join the masses in rearranging themselves, Bambam’s heart sank in his chest upon seeing the ass of the teachers’ pride sink down on his chair beside Jiwon. 

“Yo, goldilocks, come here” 

He was left to confusion about where to sit for about half a second before Jackson snatched him. 

“Well, I didn’t really wanna be paired up with you either, your mama paid me” Jackson said, letting out an offended snort as Bambam and his disgruntled frown dumped down beside him.

“Pick up your face, man, it’s sweeping the floors” 

“Sorry” Bambam replied sarcastically, masking his dismay by flashing a wide, close-mouthed smile, which his eyes didn’t want to be a part of. 

“I’m getting cramps watching you,” Jackson laughed, “but seriously, what’s up? You should be overjoyed that you get to even sit this close to me”

“It’s nothing, really” Bambam sighed, making the other raise his brows. “Well, actually I wanted to pair up with Jiwon,” he bashfully admitted, forced to by Jackson’s demanding stare.

“Ah, of course you wanted.”

When had that turned an ‘of course’? Was he really that readable? 

“Okay, guys, page 144!” Professor Kim silenced the room yet again, but the trivial babble played up after she’d told them to go get their ingredients from the plastic bags and announced that she would be leaving to take a short call in the meanwhile. 

Jackson assigned himself the task of getting their stuff from the front and Bambam followed his enthusiastic friend with his eyes as he pranced towards the teacher’s desk. On his way there, Jackson bumped into Jooheon and gave the guy a nice little pat on the butt only to receive a less comfortable slap to his own. 

Bambam shifted his glance to Jiwon, or more precisely, the thief beside her. It was Lee Chanhyuk, Lee - teacher’s pet - Chanhyuk, Lee - the smartest student in class - Chanhyuk, Lee rumored to have straight A’s - Chanhyuk, Lee - sadly, also rumored to be an alright dude - Chanhyuk. 

He got nothing on Lee Chanhyuk. Chanhyuk did apparently have a good sense of humor as well, and Bambam had even overheard some girls call him cute in the hallway the other day, so not even in looks could Bambam surpass him. Another significant advantage the other had was that Jiwon most certainly knew his name and was aware of his existence.

“Stop being jelly, it doesn’t suit you.” Jackson teased, placing a bunch of weird bottles, some plastic cups, some wooden craft sticks and two spoons in different sizes down on the table. “I chose the brown one”, he held up the little bottle of dark brown food coloring with pride, to which Bambam scrunched his nose.

“Brown? seriously, that’s boring and depressing”

“No, it’s rad” Jackson insisted, “by the way, our guy is turning on his charm over there, he complimented her eyes when I walked past”

“Really?”

“No.” 

“How very funny” Bambam spat as Jackson bursted out laughing. 

Jackson’s stupid, high-pitched hyena laugh was usually contagious, even though caused at Bambam’s expenses, but the sound of it did nothing for Bambam today. His mood was similar to the music that was to be heard through the walls of the basement during his older brother’s emo phase; dark and too heavy to be lifted, even by happy pill Wang himself. 

“Don’t be like that, you make me feel bad” Jackson patted Bambam’s shoulder apologetically when noticing that his friend’s frown yet hadn’t turned upside down to the grin it normally was quick to transform into. 

“This was kind of my only excuse to finally talk to her,” Bambam blurted out in frustration over himself, well aware he was acting out of character.

Jackson eyed him judgingly for a while without saying anything, imposing for Bambam to stick up for himself and give a further explanation of the bullshit he was trying to foist upon him, because Jackson had known him too long to fall for his tricks. 

“And when did you become so coy, princess? You don’t need to talk to her, just show her your bba sae, and while you’re at it, challenge Chanhyuk to a rap battle and roast his ass” 

A little smile appeared on the younger’s lips, but vanished quickly as he realized he didn’t dare to be his silly, careless self. “I don’t know, man, I don’t think I can do that.”

“Why not?”

“She’s gonna think I’m weird”

“But you are weird”

“Thanks for the support, much appreciated”

Jackson giggled and this time Bambam gave in to his merriment. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Bambam felt his stare burn holes through his back. He tried to get rid of the feeling of uneasiness by shifting his weight over onto the other leg and pretending to be fascinated by the fast moving trees outside of the tightly packed bus. His casual act wasn’t convincing at all, in fact he only became more aware of the reason behind the effort; the person who was taking in the sight of him from some seats away.

The owner of the piercing set of eyes was an older boy Bambam had no relations to whatsoever, but despite not having talked, he thought they’d moved passed the stage of being just strangers as they had shared the same air every morning on the public bus for months. He wouldn’t categorize them as acquaintances either, which was the next stage of a healthy relationship development according to the Sims 3, seeing as their relationship was more or less still standing. 

Bambam had actually grown to like the other’s presence and as a habit, he always searched after him when entering the bus, feeling satisfied once he spotted him occupying one of the seats. He even addressed him as ‘my bus mate’ when mentioning him to his friends. He just wished his bus mate could tone down on the glaring, both because it made him feel ill at ease, but maybe most so that he could get a turn in looking at the other without making eye contact, because he wasn’t gonna lie, the guy was a sight for sore eyes.

He couldn’t really understand what a guy like that did on an old, smelly bus, instead of in a shiny white limousine, sipping some fine wine with a chick on each arm. Maybe he’d gotten enough of the luxury life and given it up for a calm period of self-reflecting, or maybe Bambam was in the presence of a soon-to-be sensation, just sitting around, waiting to be scouted by a modeling agency. Unfortunately, the modeling agencies didn’t seem to fancy old, smelly buses in the early hours, and while the teenage girls behind the guy showed obvious interest, their excited whispers to one another did nothing to kick start his career. 

Remembering from the quick glance Bambam stole just after having entered the bus at the bus stop, the guy was wearing an insane pair of worn out jeans today, severely ripped not just on the knees. With the striking fashion statement fresh in mind, Bambam still urged to look once more, to see if his thighs were as exposed as his memory wanted him to believe. He gave it a go, turning and pretending to just randomly roam over the entire row of opposite seats, fairly distributing his attention to the surroundings and carefully avoiding locking eyes with him. Stopping to linger on his lap, Bambam's eyes took in a pair of thick thighs barely covered by shreds that didn’t really belong to the pants category. 

Bambam was a twenty-year-old soon to be twenty-one; of course the choice of what he was going to wear was entitled nobody but himself, but if he showed up at the breakfast table in those whatever-they-were, he knew his mother would, after having stared at him weirdly for some seconds, immediately send him downstairs to change. His parents wouldn’t have liked him prancing around in them inside of the house’s four walls and they would probably have disowned him if he rebelled against them by going out dressed like that. 

Putting that aside, the guy fitted his outstanding garment like a glove, his muscular thighs having done a great job in showcasing their existence. Bambam almost ruined his plan of keeping it subtle by forgetting to pull his eyes away from the glorious thighs, but he quickly retreated when recalling his original intentions. 

Anyone with eyes in their skull would be able to tell that the guy on the bus was a good-looking lad, but Bambam had always felt drawn towards him for a different reason that he couldn’t quite explain without sounding like a maniac. The guy had a distinctive but intangible air about him, oozing of authority and control. His strong presence was intimidating yet alluring, and he radiated a determination Bambam could only dream of possessing. 

He was wearing a plain, black tee, balancing out the impact of the extraordinary jeans. Although the shirt was plain, it didn’t make the owner look plain, on the contrary, it put his broad shoulders on display, making him look anything but. If Bambam was to wear the shirt, it would either hang loosely around his thin frame like a dress, or drown him in its very fabric, not provide him the same, buff appearance as it did lightly hugging the other boy’s shoulders and chest. The boy’s impressive built inspired Bambam to hit the gym, but not quite feeling that life, he chose to roll around in the sour puddle called envy instead. 

In addition to that, the guy was wearing a pair of loosely tied sneakers in size elephant and a half, the navy blue color of them only slightly darker than the color of his earbuds, which were connected to some sort of device (most likely his phone) in the pocket of his shredded jeans. The other ends of the cord were plugged into a pair of thoroughly pierced ears, slightly hidden by black strands of hair, which… as if burned, Bambam quickly retracted his exploring gaze when his eyes came to meet the boy’s intense orbs. 

Despite having called it quits after barely saving himself from the dangerous waters he’d found himself entering when he studied the guy's bizarre pants for longer than technically necessary earlier, his traitorous eyes had turned back and done a full body scan. Having completely forgotten all about the whole discreet part of his plan, he’d gone all out by checking the guy out in public. He could feel his face heat up as he shifted his stare back to the miserable trees outside, tightening his grip around the bus pole while wishing for the aliens to abduct him and release him from his embarrassing self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically a whole chapter of Bambam admiring people, oh well, I hope you enjoyed it either way!~ 
> 
>  
> 
> Please don't be silent readers! As a newbie in publishing fics feedback means a LOT to me, seriously, just a word from you guys in the comments would make my day!~


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I prefer having the author's note at the end of the chapter, but I feel like it's necessary to warn you beforehand about the few swear words I've included in this chapter in case you find it triggering. I will probably include a few swear words now and then in the upcoming chapters as well.
> 
> Anyways, this chapter consists of mainly MarkBam and I'm pretty satisfied with how their relationship came out! I hope you enjoy it, and as always, comments are much appreciated!~

“And I was like, ‘dude don’t do it’, but guess what? He fucking did it.” Jackson took another bite of his chicken sandwich, chewing in disbelief, “Can you believe it? He just does whatever he feels like doing, it’s like the word ‘consequence’ doesn’t exist in his dictionary.”

“But that’s why you two are so close, isn’t it? You’re both pretty tactless” Jinyoung took a sip from his iced tea, getting an exaggerated gasp in response from Jackson. 

“Excuse you! Okay, so I might not be the most deliberate person --Yes, thank you”, he lifted a hand up in front of him to quiet the applause he received for his impressive choice of words, “but, as a strong believer of grabbing opportunities the moment they appear-”

Jinyoung snorted loudly, causing Jackson to pause in the middle of his inspirational speech and send him a look of annoyance before continuing, “-I would still never have thrown myself down four rows to catch a football during a match!” 

“That’s only cause you’re scared of balls”

“Hm, yeah, balls are pretty scary. But you’re not scared of balls, right Jinyoungie?”

The grin on Jackson’s face vanished as he received a solid kick to his shin under the table. He groaned in agony while reaching down to his leg, “stop ruining my good looks! What are the girls gonna say when they see the legs of their favorite basketball player molested?”

Mark hadn’t said anything, letting the two of them do their bickering in peace, but Jackson, known for blowing things way out of proportion whenever the chance was given, caught his eye roll and took it as a grand insult. 

“Mark, I want you to think about that time I let you borrow my favorite snapback and treasure the memory in your heart, because that’s not gonna happen again. By the way, where is Yugyeom?” He shifted his attention from Mark to Bambam, who was busy tagging the picture he just snapped of his rather distasteful-looking seafood pancake.

“He’s taken a day off to spend time at that dance studio, didn’t I tell you?”

“No”

“Well, now you know,” Bambam looked up from his phone after having uploaded the picture to his Instagram, “I’m actually concerned about him. I get the feeling he’s considering quitting college”

“He’s dropping out to pursue his dreams, how horrible”

“Jackson,” Jinyoung sighed, “you’re so tiresome to be around today, go bother someone else” 

Personally offended yet again, Jackson abruptly stood up from his chair. However, he realized threatening to leave was a waste as the group had ignored him and continued sharing their concern about the youngest. He decided he didn’t find it tempting to barge through the tightly packed cafeteria anyways, so he sat down again, miffed. 

“-I mean, it’s not that I don’t want him to dance. He enjoys it and he’s hella talented, but what about his education? Maybe it’s weird coming from me, but his parents will throw tables if they find out he skips school and his father is terrifying when he gets mad,” Bambam shuddered, thinking about the trouble his friend could be expecting if busted. 

“He’s a grown-up now, he’s probably aware of the consequences,” Jinyoung said in a calm voice, reassuring Bambam like only he could, “don’t worry too much, let’s just see how it unfolds before getting involved.”

“Ey, Jackson!” A loud voice was to be heard through the rest of the noise the local contained, interrupting their conversation and making the four of them turn their heads. Jooheon approached their table with a smile, raising his left hand as a greeting. The other hand was put in a cast and hung limply by his side. 

“That’s the definition of bad timing,” Jinyoung mumbled, taking in the view of the cast as Jooheon sank down on the chair between him and Jackson.

“Sad you can’t see me play?” He sent Jinyoung a greasy wink and earned a hint of pink in return. 

“Sad you’re ruining for your team!” Jackson yelled angrily, getting an end to Jooheon’s cockiness as the latter was taken aback by the accusation. 

“What was even that stunt? Couldn’t you have waited with being stupid until, I don’t know, not in the middle of the basketball season?”

“Geez, man, I’m sorry” 

“Not good enough!”

Jackson’s frustrated scolding went on, but Bambam blocked it out, his attention wholly on Jooheon’s forearm. The previously white cast was pampered with writings and small drawings. Among encouraging ‘get well’ messages and signed names of students he hadn’t heard off, one writing stood out. Underneath the cute, bewinged cartoon dick --Yes, that was one adorable dick, a neat ‘Park Jiwon’ followed by a little heart met his eyes. 

His immediate reaction was jealousy, but he didn’t want to be that guy so he forced it down like a spoonful of ketchup. He didn’t know why, but he just couldn’t, for the sake of his taste buds, get himself to like the taste of the spicy, red sauce. It made him about as sick to his stomach as the thought of Jiwon with Jooheon, or Jiwon with any guy who wasn’t himself if he was to be very honest.

A couple of days earlier, he’d wanted to shave of Chanhyuk’s eyebrows just for sitting beside Jiwon, and know he felt the green-eyed monster slowly creep upon him again. As if he had the right to feel possessive. They were strangers to one another, he reminded himself, and she wasn’t necessarily that much closer to Jooheon and Chanhyuk. Her sitting beside Chanhyuk didn’t have to mean they were fucking. Her writing her name on Jooheon’s cast didn’t have to mean they were fucking. But the heart though…

Bambam gave himself a mental slap and a scolding for being so sickly obsessed with a girl he didn’t know more than the outside appearance of. She could be eating kittens for breakfast for all he knew, or terrorizing the neighborhood kids in her basement when their parents weren’t home. She could be a terrible human being, and here he was, spazzing over her mesmerizing eyes and full lips and gorgeous smile and adorable dimples.

He wondered how Jiwon and Jooheon knew each other… Was it appropriate to ask? No, actually, that was none of his business and he didn’t give a rat’s ass about their relationship. Friends, lovers, friends with benefits, heck, Jooheon could be her uncle and Bambam wouldn’t even lift his eyes from his phone screen at the revelation. 

His friends, and whatever Jooheon was to him, started moving and Bambam got up to tag along.

“Wait, are you mad?” Mark studied Bambam’s face, gloating over his pissed expression as the two of them brought up the rear out the door of the cafeteria.

“What do you mean, I’m so happy right now I could die”

Mark flashed his canines in a grin and it somehow made Bambam feel better.

“Have any plans for later?” 

“Why? Are you asking me out?” Bambam teased as they continued through the hallways. “I am actually planning to go see Yugyeom when my classes are over, wanna come?”

“Yeah, sure,” Mark nodded.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The month of March had turned history, taking with it the last piles of snow as its last day was ripped out of the old-fashioned calendar Bambam’s mom had invested in.

Standing at the bus stop just outside of campus, Bambam felt the sunrays warm up his skin. He was thankful for the light breeze gently blowing his hair out of his eyes and preventing him from breaking a sweat in the unusually hot April weather. 

Although the air was refreshing and the outdoors offered a great range of bird chirping, Bambam wished Mark could hurry up and finish his classes so that they could get going. The bus was supposed to arrive in ten minutes and Mark had said that his last class would end half past three, which was twenty minutes ago. 

Bambam fished up his phone from the pocket of his jeans, excited to see he’d earned a new follower on Instagram, but not forgetting his original intentions. However, the redhead he was expecting appeared from behind the closest building just as he was about to make a call, and so he saved some money that day as well. 

“Why so late?” Bambam asked as Mark approached him 

“The teacher snatched me for a talk after class,” the other explained

“Oh Mark, which window did you crush this time?” 

Mark snorted, “She tried to convince me to join the mathlete’s.”

“Really? I didn’t know you were that bright,” Bambam laughed, “you gotta join! Nerdy is the new cool!” 

“As if,” Mark muttered.

Looking at Mark, the boy didn’t need to stay updated on trends to look cool. He preferred his shirts three sizes too big and his hair dyed in a vibrant, red color, and Bambam personally thought he looked pretty damn good like that. He had overheard more than one group of people discuss that Mark looked pretty damn good and his reserved friend wasn’t even aware that his pointy canines had a fan club of their own at campus. 

Bambam admired several aspects of Mark, among them his skills within material arts. Mark had been into material arts long before the summer he enrolled in middle school, when his parents finally trusted him enough to let him try turning upside-down mid air. During high school, he’d almost spent more time in the air than on the ground, and thus he’d earned the nickname ‘Rotten tomato’. 

Jackson was the one having come up with the nickname and he had found it absolutely hilarious. Bambam remembered watching poor Mark being pushed back and forth between Jackson and some others as the older guys walked in front of him and Yugyeom on their way to the mall. From a 12-year-old’s perspective, it had looked as if Mark was being bullied, and Bambam, being thoroughly lectured by his parents about ethics, had called them out on their behavior despite Yugyeom’s plea not to. 

The older boys hadn’t made fun of the nervous 12-year-old with the little, accented voice, they had, on the contrary, explained that they were just playing around. Jackson had also explained the meaning behind Mark’s nickname; that his hair was red and that he spent the majority of his time doing flips in the air, just like a rotten tomato being thrown at a bad artist on stage. Nobody wanted to be hit by the rotten tomato, that’s why they had to push him off them. Jackson had then asked Mark to demonstrate and both Bambam and Yugyeom had watched him in awe as he executed a flawless front flip in the middle of the street. The smile Mark had given them after having landed steadily on his feet reassured Bambam that the other guys weren’t being mean to him, and so the precocious boy could wave goodbye to the high schoolers with relief.

Twenty-year-old Bambam would most likely also have interpreted the situation he witnessed as bullying. Luckily, the nickname was replaced with a new one; "Dimsum", because apparently, Mark looked like a Chinese dish.

After some more minutes of standing, the city bus rolled up beside them and people poured out of it. When everyone that were to leave the bus seemed to have exited, Bambam took the lead and guided himself and Mark to the entrance. Showing the bus driver his student card, he got twenty-five percent off on the prize, but the ride was still far from cheap considering the condition of the vehicle. 

Having sat down, Mark untangled his earbuds and offered to share them. During the twenty minutes it took to get downtown, they had listened to a third of “X”, Mark’s favorite album by Chris Brown, and even though the songs were more suggestive than sad and there was no cliché pouring of rain outside, staring out of the window while listening to them made Bambam feel empty. 

Together with Mark, Bambam got up when the bus stopped outside of the mall downtown, only to get severely startled when randomly making an eighty-degree turn to his right.  
On the other side of the isle, five seats further back in the bus, with the window, was he. The boy with the glare sharper than Jackson’s fencing sabre. He was sitting with his eyes closed, head tilted back against the chair as if sleeping.

A light push from Mark made Bambam snap partly out of it and start moving towards the front of the bus. He stumbled in his own feet twice during the short distance between his seat and the exit, and he’d probably ignored a friendly ‘goodbye’ from the bus driver as he passed him. After having left the bus with as much grace as his absent mind could muster, he felt a hand on his shoulder from behind and turned around to look into Mark's puzzled face.

“You know my bus mate?” Bambam begun, wide-eyed, “the guy who takes the bus at the same time as I do, except from on Wednesdays? He was the one sleeping on the opposite row! I was surprised to see him there, because, er, I’ve never seen him except from in the mornings…”

With the guidance of Mark’s facial expression, Bambam realized how ridiculous he sounded even before all the nonsense had exited his mouth. 

“He actually takes the bus more often than once a day. Sick.” The suppressed smirk that had been playing in the corners of Mark’s lips developed into a wide grin as he threw an arm around the younger’s shoulders, weighing him down while shoving him forward.

“Don’t laugh at me!” Bambam half-sulked, half-laughed as they started walking clumsily down the street, causing Mark to burst out in giggles.


End file.
